sinner playing as a preacher

The fires of hell were no longer licking and nipping deliciously at his fetlocks. They no longer reached up and licked at and singed the coarse hair of his tail. He could no longer hear the pained screams of the tortured, nor could he hear the pleas of mercy from those who bowed at his clawed feet. It was quiet. It was cool. And it was wrong. But why? Just where in the fuck was he? Instead of his claws clicking on stone they dug into soft dirt. The utterly foreign sensation had the stallion looking down in bewilderment, but that soon turned to annoyance. Just where the hell was he? And why couldn't he remember getting there? And why did he feel like he was being watched? The stallion spun around, ears pinned and eyes narrowed as he searched the area behind him. The only thing he saw was a wolf. One pathetic wolf that he could smash in an instant. He could pin it down, rip its flesh form its bones, spatter blood across the ground. He took one menacing step toward the wold and that was enough to make it retreat into the shadows of the forest. With the wolf gone the demon turned his attention to the forest. His nostrils quivered as he sucked in deep gulps of fresh air -- so differend from the sulfurous scent of hell. There were many different scents that he was able to differentiate -- equine, mare, stallion, unicorn, pegasus, wolf, demon -- and some that were unknown to him. He still had no idea where it was he had landed, or how he had gotten there, but just standing wouldn't bring him any closer to any answers. So he began his trek through the forest. Lo and behold, he didn't have to walk far before he was able to spot someone else. The stark white of the creature's coat stood out against the darkness of the forest. An angel? Oh, Alastor did think it was so. The stallion moved with a silent, fluid grace as he slipped between the trees to emerge directly in front of the waiting angel. Oh, how he wished to strip the feathers from those wings as he had countless times before. Alastor, the demonic executioner, the slayer of angels. Surely this man would know exactly who he was. He came to a stop and his lips parted and a wicked grin, revealing shockingly sharp teeth. All the better to eat you with, my dear. sdf "talk" ALASTOR THE RIVER GOES WHERE THE CURRENT FLOWS THE LIGHT WE MUST D E S T R O Y

^{Image Credits}

JOINING NOTES

Alastor - Foreigner (possesses grusha's soul)
Vanity Magic - His apperance becomes skeletal when emotions run high
:: [ Magic: EarthxSpark | Can manipulate dead organic matter. ]
:: [ Restrictions | Can make 1 large item, 2 medium items, or 3 small items per season. ]
Offensive Magic - :: [ Magic: DarkxSpark | Able to create a painfully high-pitched noise around creations. ]
:: [ Restrictions | Noise extends only 5m from creation. ]

ITEM:
:: [ Item: Bone dagger ("Feusohm") | Offensive. Made from the Time Monster; when invoked with a name its tip will always point towards the direction that individual is at until found or the dagger is sheathed. (from Ampere) ]
:: [ Restrictions | Can only point to one character at a time; the correct name must be known (their account name). ]

MUTATIONS:
Clawed front feet (good for gripping)
Sharp teeth (good for his carnivorous appetite)
Red eyes - red iris, dark red pupil (like a white rabbit's eyes)
bat wings

Grusha had one companion on Helovia, he'll be wild since we missed the joining deadline
Nashoba :: Timber Wolf